The Stem of Sin
by Fahrig
Summary: The Foxworth story, as told by Cathy's mother
1. Prologue

**"THE STEM OF SIN" by Alessandra Azzaroni**

© 2002 by Alessandra Azzaroni aazzaroni@hotmail.com http://au.geocities.com/vcastairwaytoheaven/index.htm

**STORY LAST UPDATED ON 10/12/2002**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Written in Australia. This story contains characters created by Virginia Andrews. There are also quotes from _Garden of Shadows_. Please send me an email if you would like to know when this story is updated.

**PROLOGUE**

I'm leaving this manuscript under the bed in my Greenglenna home. I shall not try to have this published. For those who come across this, it is the true story of my life, however horrible it may be.  
And to my eldest daughter, Catherine: You may have taken away my husband, Cathy, but you can never take away the truth. I'm not the monstrous person you think I am. I am a real person, with real feelings. I am only human.  
And I'm your mother.

Corrine Foxworth Dollanganger Winslow


	2. Chapter One: The Early Years

**"THE STEM OF SIN" by Alessandra Azzaroni**

© 2002 by Alessandra Azzaroni aazzaroni@hotmail.com http://au.geocities.com/vcastairwaytoheaven/index.htm

**STORY LAST UPDATED ON 10/12/2002**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Written in Australia. This story contains characters created by Virginia Andrews. There are also quotes from _Garden of Shadows_. Please send me an email if you would like to know when this story is updated.

**CHAPTER ONE: THE EARLY YEARS**

Daddy always told me that I was the most beautiful baby in the world. And I believed him. Yet I always wondered where I got my looks. They certainly weren't from Mother! She was always a plain woman, and I just couldn't see something in her that made my father want to marry her.  
It must have been her strength. Olivia Winfield Foxworth was by far the strongest one of us all. Especially stronger than I was, stronger than I am now, even though she's left this world. But I suppose I've always lacked strength.  
After all, I had planned to always have a strong, handsome man to look after me, to care for me, to love me and to support me. And I got that man. But he was taken away from me, and I was left to fend for myself.  
Daddy named me Corinne, after his mother. She was a beautiful woman, he told me, and he said that when I was born I looked almost exactly the way he imagined his mother had looked as a newborn.  
He never told Mother that she was beautiful. He rarely, if ever, complimented her. And he practically ignored my older brothers - Mal was six years older than me, and Joel was four years older than me - except for when he criticised them.  
In my younger years, Daddy told me of my first Christmas, when there was a party at Foxworth Hall. Close to five hundred people came! Daddy even designed special invitations. "Corinne Foxworth cordially invites you to her first Christmas party at Foxworth Hall" was written in gold lettering. There were crystal fountains with sparkling champagne, the Christmas tree was twenty-five feet high, there was an orchestra and it was snowing outside! And there were professionally taken photographs of me, framed in gold in the entranceway.  
Such extravagance, and it was because of me. Daddy pulled out all the stops to introduce me to the world. Oh, he _loved_ me, he did! But his love was taken away from me, too.  
But I was still beautiful. I had bright blue eyes that would enchant people, and my wavy hair was of spun gold. My complexion was perfect. And it always reminded my father of his mother, the first Corinne.  
With all that loving praise heaped upon me, I often felt that perhaps my brothers were jealous of the love, attention and affection often given to me by my father. But Mal and Joel were always pleasant to me. Sometimes I even felt as if my mother resented me, but she always wanted the best for me. She wanted me to grow up intelligent and strong-willed, and therefore I needed discipline. "Tough love"; if you will. Though Malcolm Neal Foxworth, that powerful father of mine, continued to spoil me.  
I started to grow up under the care of my mother and Mrs Stratton, my nanny. In the summer when I was almost three years old, Daddy replaced Mrs Stratton with an imported one from England. Mrs Worthington had once been the governess to the Duke and Duchess of Devon's children. I didn't like her in the beginning.  
"I want to stay with you, Mommy," I cried to my mother. "I don't like that other lady."  
She tried to calm me down. "Corinne darling, you know I would rather it be only the two of us. But your father insists. Your father thinks it's important that you have a governess, and even if I don't agree, your father will not back down. The best thing for you to do is obey Mrs Worthington."  
I went on to deal with being under her guidance. She was to teach me etiquette, elocution, dance and how to play the piano. "We walk to the table," she said to me, "like a lady should. And remember how you take your seat," she added.  
I learned quickly, and I was sent off to a private boarding school when I was ten. My family missed me dearly when I was gone, and I, too, missed them. It was brilliant when we were all together. My brothers, not just my father, spoiled me, taking me sailing and horseback riding. I seriously was under the impression that I had the world wrapped around my little finger, and that people would always jump at the chance to do things for me. Even when I was as young as eleven, I told my father during Thanksgiving holiday that my clothes were all out of date, and it was very important to me. So he took me on a shopping spree in Charlottesville.  
It all continued on, until I was thirteen. One day I sat at the dining table with Daddy, and I was telling him all about something that had happened recently. He seemed captivated by what I was saying, and he hung on to every word.  
He caught my hand in his. "You like your daddy?" he asked me seriously.  
What a silly question! "Oh, yes, Daddy." I smiled at him.  
"Then promise to stay with me forever and I promise that all this will be yours." He gestured extravagantly, and I giggled. "I mean it," he said. "Everything I own will go to my princess. Will you stay with me forever?"  
"Of course I will, Daddy," I said, and he kissed me on the cheek. "But will you do a favour for me now, Daddy?"  
"Anything, princess, anything your little heart desires."  
"Do you know that special room upstairs, Daddy? The one that's always locked? I want that to be my room. Can it be mine? Oh, please say yes right now and I'll move all my things myself." I clapped my hands together, flushed with excitement.  
"What room?" he asked with a half-smile.  
"The room with the swan bed. Oh, how beautiful it is."  
To my disappointment, he denied me. "No, no," he said. "You must not go into that room. It's not a room to be used."  
"But why?" I was angry. This was one of the rare times when I didn't get my own way. I expressed myself through my hands, and at that moment they were clenched into tight fists, and I pounded them against my thighs.  
"It's a bad room, a tainted room," Daddy said, but it just made the room more enticing to me. There was something exhilarating to me about something I couldn't have.  
"Why?" I asked.  
"Because the ghost of my father's second wife lives in there," Daddy said, trying to scare me. It _did_ take me by surprise. "And she was not a nice woman."  
"Why wasn't she a nice woman?" I asked in an almost whisper.  
"It's not important. There are some things you are too young to know."  
"But, Daddy, I'm a big girl now. We know there's no such things as ghosts. I don't believe that room is haunted by a ghost. Let me move in there, and if you're worried that there's a ghost there, silly Daddy, I'll scare it away for you."  
"I want this subject dropped now, Corinne. I want it dropped right now."  
I was surprised. He rarely, if ever, shouted at me. "But I want that room," I insisted. "It's the prettiest room in the house; I want it to be mine." I fled from the room then, in tears. I really did want it to be mine.  
Mother knew this, and when Daddy was out for the day, Mother would let me visit the Swan Room. I loved to sit at the vanity table and pretend I was preparing for a fancy ball. I would brush my hair with the brush that lay on the table. I even put on a nightgown I found in the room. I tied the lace strings of the bodice extra tight and I loved the way I felt in it. Then I fell asleep on the swan bed, wearing that silver nightgown.


	3. Chapter Two: Love and a Motorcycle

**"THE STEM OF SIN" by Alessandra Azzaroni**

© 2002 by Alessandra Azzaroni aazzaroni@hotmail.com http://au.geocities.com/vcastairwaytoheaven/index.htm

**STORY LAST UPDATED ON 10/12/2002**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Written in Australia. This story contains characters created by Virginia Andrews. There are also quotes from _Garden of Shadows_. Please send me an email if you would like to know when this story is updated.

**CHAPTER TWO: LOVE AND A MOTORCYCLE**

Alas, that Swan Room was not allowed to be mine. That struck me deeply. Never before had I not been given something I wanted. And so the thing I wanted most I couldn't have.  
Mother understood how much I wanted it, though. And so she let me in there, where I often pretended I was preparing for a grand ball, or just wondering what my grandfather's second wife - the one who supposedly haunted the room - was like.  
Since Mother let me, it was nice to feel that she was on my side. After all, I knew she disapproved of Daddy spoiling me. But how could she resist giving into me, too? I knew I was charming, but the bait I used was my beauty. Blond beauty was difficult to ignore, and at that age I carried it with the innocence of the angels. Yet gluttony was, and always will be, a sin. So maybe I truly _ was_ sinful from the very beginning.  
Maybe Mother was a little jealous of my beauty, but she still loved me, I knew she did. And I, too, loved her. She _ was_ my mother after all, and I needed a female ally in Foxworth Hall, someone I could talk about "girly things" with. I had my friends at boarding school, but at home I only had Mother to talk to about such things.  
And so one day when I was fourteen, I ran out to my mother's garden, where she was cutting the last of the summer chrysanthemums. "Mama, I've become a woman!"  
She looked up at me from under the wide-brimmed straw hat she wore when gardening. "Darling, what are you talking about?"  
"Mama, I'm in a womanly way!" When I saw how shocked she was - but why would she be? - I felt the need to further explain myself to her. I giggled shyly. "Mama, I've got my period. Now I'm really a woman."  
Mother wordlessly took my hands in hers; maybe she could feel my excitement that I was finally somewhat grown up. "Mama, make me a garland for my hair to celebrate. In the olden days, didn't you used to do that to celebrate big events?"  
I didn't wait for an answer. I broke our hands apart, and gathered the flowers Mother had cut. I wove the stems together, entwining blossoms of all colours with experienced hands that had done a lot of daisy chain making in my schooldays.  
Now that I was a woman, I expected that a man-woman relationship would soon follow. I wanted to know about true love between a man and a woman. Was it real, or was it just a myth? After all, I could look at my parents but the term "true love" would never come to mind if I tried to describe their relationship.  
I went over and sat on the ship rock that decorated the centre of the garden. "Aren't you going to tell me all about love now, Mama? Aren't I ready now? Oh, I have so many longings inside me, I feel like I could burst."  
"Love, Corinne? You're only a child."  
"But Mama, I'm so filled with questions. I'm so…" While trying to figure out how to say things, I fastened bright forget-me-nots to my golden locks. "I'm so curious to know everything."  
"Corinne-"  
"When a man kisses you, Mama, do you just die inside?"  
"Darling-"  
"When he takes you in his arms" - I embraced myself, leapt to my feet and danced around the flowers as if I were in Foxworth Hall at a very special ball - "do you feel like the ground is dancing with you? Mama, I must know! I'll just die if I have to spend the rest of my life in Foxworth Hall. I want marriage. I want love. I want to go dancing every night. I want to be taken on cruises to exotic lands where the women don't wear blouses and the men beat drums." In my head I could easily imagine a Caribbean, Polynesian or Melanesian island. "Oh, I know Daddy would never approve, he wants me to be his little girl forever, but you know I can't be. You must have once wanted those things too, Mama. You must have wanted a man who swept you off your feet, who promised to love you forever and ever, who made the world shake and tremble every time he touched your hand. Does Daddy make you feel that way?"  
"Your father-"  
"He's so handsome, I bet, I just bet and" - this time I brought my mother into dancing with me - "I bet you were just wild about him." At that moment I was wild with my exuberant dreams that I hoped would come true, they just _ had_ to!  
But Mother stopped the dance, and she looked somewhat tortured. "Mama," I said, "promise me someone will love me, some wonderful young man will win my heart. Promise." I suddenly bent over, for a cramp had bulleted me near my pelvic area.  
"Womanhood brings pain along with its joys, and every month you'll be reminded of this. You know, Corinne, relations between a man and a woman are more complicated than you can ever imagine. It's not just flowers and rainbows, though we might wish with all our hearts it were. As the poets have always told us, love more resembles a rose, with harsh, hurting thorns beneath its bright, beautiful blossom. For some of us, the thorns are hardly noticeable, so sweet is the scent of the rose, but for others the rose is small, and shrivelled almost before it's bloomed, and we are left with a bush of thorns, like tiny needles poking your heart-"  
"But Mama, the pain's already gone. I know you know everything about life, Mama, and I know you're trying to protect me. But I know something in my heart, and I just know it's true. I know I'm going to be one of those special lucky girls - I mean women - who have a special, special love, pure and bright, an all-life-long true love. And I know that when it comes I'll be ready, and I'll do anything, anything, _ anything_ to claim it for my own. Oh, Mama, I can tell things aren't always fine between you and Daddy. But that doesn't mean it has to be that way for me, does it?" I felt as though Mother was trying to scare me out of love. "Does it, Mama? Won't it be different for me?"  
She gave a slight smile. "Of course, Corinne, of course it will be different for you. For you have the gifts all women long for - beauty, sweetness, innocence, a loving heart-" She hugged me tightly. "Come, dear, let's go inside. Have you taken care of your situation?"  
"Oh, Mama, of course. Mrs Tethering gave me the necessary, and of course you know, Mama, all the girls at school talk about nothing else. Oh, I'm so happy this happened just in time before I return to school. I may have left a girl, but I'll be returning a woman!"  
We returned to the house, and as we climbed the front steps, Mal came up on the driveway on a shining black motorcycle. Mother and I were both surprised, as Daddy had absolutely forbid this. As always, I was excited by the thought of the forbidden, and wanted desperately to ride along.  
Mal must have been easily able to tell this. "Hey, Corinne. Want a ride?" He revved the motor temptingly.  
"Oh, Mama, Mama, can I?"  
"Corinne, you are a young woman. It's so dangerous. I forbid you-"  
"Mother!" Mal said. "I'll just take her for a spin around the driveway. Don't be so old-fashioned."  
"Can I? Oh, please, Mama?"  
"Do you really think this is how a lady behaves?"  
"Lucy McCarthy's brother has a motorcycle and he sometimes drives her to school and the McCarthys are really rich and prominent and Daddy even says so and-"  
Mal revved the motor again. "Mother," he said, kicking up dust, "it's only around the driveway. I'll drop Corinne off at the gate, and she can walk back. Besides, if you don't let me take her for a ride, I'm going to make you get on."  
He and I both laughed, and Mother said warily, "Only around the driveway."  
"Oh, thank you, thank you, Mama," I squealed, and I climbed onto the bike and gripped Mal tightly around the waist. Almost instantaneously, the bike pulled away from Mother, kicking up gravel and sand.


End file.
